


sweet apocalypse

by Elendraug



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Play, Artificial Intelligence, Bulges and Nooks, Casual Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Illustrated, M/M, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Robotics, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, Wet & Messy, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug
Summary: “Lactation aside, there’s a lot of overlap.”Dirk pinches the bridge of his nose and stares down at his cereal. “Why are you like this?”





	sweet apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forkidcest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forkidcest/gifts).



> **Prompt:** _This one is a bit more specific._
> 
> _Post-canon, merged sprites are unmerged, but retain the memories of being a single entity. So Equius has complicated feelings for Dirk, and an awareness of their many... common interests, and AR has encyclopedic knowledge of both his and Dirk's significantly overlapping sets of kinks, having been, in a sense, both of them._
> 
> _AR can be shades or an autonomous program or a robot, whatever. Maybe Dirk and Equius are collaborating on building a body for him. The main thing I'm looking for is:_  
>  _(1) the two of them being totally into each other, conflicted about it, and absolutely determined to keep it under wraps, while AR delights in horribly embarrassing and flustering them by telling them- individually- all about what the other likes or wants or has fantasized about._  
>  _(2) escalation from AR getting off on messing with them to getting off on watching them fuck and directing the action, maybe telling both of them what to do, but definitely giving Equius detailed instructions on how to wreck Dirk in a way he'll absolutely love._
> 
> * * *
> 
> This one's brought to you by Left Hand's Nitro Milk Stout (which urges the consumer to POUR HARD) and New Belgium's Trippel (because it's a threesome, get it?).
> 
> I had never written Equius before but after the main Drone Season round I am now equiupped to do so.
> 
> I feel like this is extra sloppy but here goes, enjoy
> 
> ♫ moby: summer | sunspot | flying over the dateline | sweet apocalypse  
> ♫ tricky ft martina topley-bird: overcome

“Lactation aside, there’s a lot of overlap.”

Dirk pinches the bridge of his nose and stares down at his cereal. “Why are you like this?”

“Assertive? Confident?” Hal uses his noodly robo-arm to put the cereal box back into the pantry for him. “Let me know which personality trait you’d like me to expound upon.”

His Kix are getting soggy. “I don’t see why it’s got to be such a thing.”

“Look, dude, I’m just saying that there’s a bananas likelihood that he feels the same way.”

Dirk spoons some extruded corn puffs into his mouth and talks while chewing. “Based on some robo-bullshit calculations?”

“Based on: nobody here but you two thinks that this is in any way a clandestine affair.” Hal’s eyes glow red in the kitchen. They match the LCD numerals on Dirk’s microwave. “And to be clear, by ‘here’ I mean literally the entirety of planet fucking Earthsea.”

“It can’t be _that_ obvious. I’ve kept my mouth shut for a reason.”

Hal laughs. Dirk recognizes the sound as a clip from _Feel Good Inc._ “You two could comprise your own anime convention with how much you’re leering at each other in hallways.” 

There’s one remaining Kix in the bowl. Dirk feels sorry for it, and wonders if Kix works as both a singular and plural noun. “So what’s your solution, then, if it’s so simple?”

“Text him.”

“It’s ten o’clock.”

“Yeah. At night. He’s nocturnal, man, and you’re an insomniac.”

Dirk puts his face in his hands. “What do I even say, though?”

“Here’s how the conversation is going to play out, according to some fabricated percentage of a chance of whatever fake statistics.” Hal holds his hands up like puppets to demonstrate the exchange. “Hi, I’m Dirk, have you ever wanted to have sex with a horse? Hi Dirk, I’m Equius, and the answer is yes.”

There’s silence, and the only audible sound is the hum of the refrigerator. Hal took the liberty of alchemizing a label printer for the sole purpose of affixing _THERMAL HULL_ to it in embossed plastic.

“What if you go talk to him for me?”

“Dude, come on.”

“No, seriously. You guys shared a conscious mind for a while there, so you’d know how to talk to him about this, right?”

“That’s exactly my point. I’m telling you, having been _both_ of you at varying points in my existence, he’d jump at the chance for this.” Hal pauses for a beat, then adds, “You know, like—”

“Like a horse jumping over an obstacle, yeah. I know.”

Dirk eats the final Kix, and drinks the remaining milk at the bottom of the bowl.

Hal sits down at the table. “Well? Are you going to message him for a _blue-ty call_ or do I have to do all the legwork?”

In an effort to change the subject, Dirk nods towards Hal’s horns, which are three and a half inch squares of primarily orange plastic. "Are these... are these just regular floppy disks you guys glued on here?"

"Duh."

He reaches out to touch one, delicately, with a fingertip. “The paint flecks off.”

“Then don’t scratch at it.”

“Do they actually work?”

“Yes. You can store one point four four megabytes. That’s your choice of like, a few pictures, one low-quality MP3, or a lot of text!”

“That’s not really a lot of text.”

“Depends on what you consider _alot_ to be. Thanks, Allie Brosh.”

Dirk hesitates before proceeding. “But why go for these, of all things? He could’ve designed you whatever you wanted.”

“I thought we all missed the 90s. Don’t we all miss the 90s, Dirk?”

“I guess.”

“Did you know that there weren’t even _any_ unusual specifications or adjustments needed for me to be able to inhabit this soulbot? That’s got some difficult implications for the future of AI, _doesn’t_ it, Dirk?

Dirk says nothing, and looks at his warped reflection in the spoon.

Hal stands back up as quickly as he’d sat down. “He saved me. That’s what you need to know.”

It’s unfair, and Dirk knows it as the words leave his mouth. “Did he install any extra chips while he was in there?”

“He didn’t have to.” Hal scoots his chair back against the table and moves towards the door. “He’d talk to you, you know. But since—in what you would call unprecedented but I would call typical—you want me to solve things for you? I will.”

From his peripheral vision, Dirk watches him go, and then picks up his phone. He opens Trollian, checks if Equius is online, and sees that he is.

He sets the phone back down, screen against the table.

* * *

“He’s been going stir-crazy ever since Jake and Tavros told him they needed some space.” 

“He must feel excluded.”

“Yeah.” Hal parts Equius’ hair and runs his fingers through it, smoothing it down and separating it into sections. “I try to keep him company when I can, but he isolates himself.”

Equius opens the rings of a binder and slides in a new plastic page protector, then slips a piece of printed artwork within it. “It does seem that he has a tendency to exacerbate some of his own problems.”

“No fuckin’ kidding.” It’s easy to estimate with mathematical precision the exact balance of his strands of hair to sweep up into the braid as he works through it. “So he’s got me acting in his stead again, and we all know how that went last time.”

Equius shoots him a knowing glance. “ _Is_ that how it went?”

“Well.”

Equius curates the collection methodically while Hal experiments with his hairstyle. When he’s at peace, he’s not subject to the same cold sweats he used to wipe away every few hours (or minutes, on his worst nights).

Hal continues to come around the crown of his head, and pins the braid in place.

“What technique is this?”

“French braids, basically.” The bobby pins stick to an electromagnet he’s activated within his hand. “But YouTube tutorials were calling this one _milkmaid_ in the keywords, and I thought you’d dig that.”

“I do. It’s exceptional.”

“Like that fellow?”

Hal nods his head towards the latest item in Equius’ binder full of workhorses, all of them flexing and glistening with sweat and other substances.

“That’s Gilbert,” Equius offers as the only explanation.

“He’s a beaut.”

“I have always found it beneficial to maintain a stock of hard copies of these pieces from the nudeseum’s archives, just for such an occasion.” Equius picks another to set into a sleeve, and adds it to the binder. “There is a certain something to a tangible artifact that heightens one’s appreciation, I believe.”

“Je ne sais quoi.” Hal starts on the second braid, careful not to snag any strands on his metal phalanges. “The organics are at it again. Are you afraid of a loss of fidelity if you scan it and just send it to him that way?”

“No.” Equius tilts his head to allow Hal to access the areas he needs. “It’s simply nicer to share while sitting together.”

“What better to go in a lap than a laptop, _praytell_?”

Equius snaps the rings closed. “I imagine you could provide some suggestions.”

“Yeah, so speaking of. That’s the topic I do have authority to act on his behalf about. Legit.”

“I expect this will be as lewd as you’ve implied.”

“Probably worse. He’s had it bad for you for like, ever, but is just too much of a nervous wreck to say anything.” 

Equius jogs the remaining prints into a neat stack and sets them aside on the desk. “Such as yourself, when we’d first parted?”

“Hey, hey.” Hal lets the unfinished braid fall over Equius’ shoulder, before he himself joins it and drapes himself against his back, loops his arms around his neck. “I told you soon enough.”

Equius lifts a hand to rest his fingers on the steel of Hal’s wrist, welded and crafted in his own workshop. “You did.”

Hal runs his fingertips down to Equius’ sternum, where relatively recent ink marks his skin with their recreated, combined symbol. “You’ve got a leg up on him, though. You’ve also been me, and I was him, so.”

“So I should be quite well informed that he wishes for me to get a leg up on him?”

“Funny.” Hal kisses his cheek, and grins with razorblade-sharp teeth, _like Clanker_ , by request and gladly delivered. “Are you still dead set on keeping this a secret, too?”

“It was not my intent to embarrass any of us.”

“The only embarrassing thing here is how long you’ve both been putting off getting off.”

Equius leans towards Hal, his temple against Hal’s steel facsimile of a cheekbone, each surface of equal temperature. “You seemed to allude to some details.”

“Yeah, since we’re passing notes and all, let’s cut to the chase.” He traces his fingertips across Equius’ chest. “He wants to get his sweaty, meaty body very fucking acquainted with yours.”

“I will permit the use of the foul language, if you would please expand upon this.”

“Sometimes, and with increasing frequency these past few weeks, he shoves a horse dildo up his ass and pretends it’s you while he jacks it.”

“Hmm.” There’s sweat at his brow, at last. “I could make an assessment of his behavior, if only I had additional context.” 

“He has assumed that you have a massive schlong. He wants you to hold him down and stick it to him like table stickball.”

“Atop felt?”

“Sure, yeah. That’s your cue.”

“What else did he—”

They’re both interrupted by Equius’ phone buzzing, once, on the desk. He reaches for it and reads the latest.

TT: You are really attractive. I am attracted to you.

“Oh shit.”

Equius’ fingers, calibrated for mechanical construction, take no time to tap a reply.

D --> Your looks are similarly alluring

There’s a delay. Equius watches the ellipsis, and eagerly awaits the response as it’s being typed.

TT: You ever heard of Netflix and chill?  
D --> No  
D --> But we don’t require an excuse, do we

Hal watches over Equius’ shoulder. Equius holds his breath; Hal doesn’t.

TT: Nope.  
TT: Head over whenever, then.

Equius closes the binder and stows it in his messenger bag.

* * *

Dirk is barefoot, in loungewear and with brushed teeth when Hal returns, with Equius in tow. Equius has a satchel packed full enough that Dirk is relieved to infer it’s likely that he intends to stay for a while.

“Uh, hey.” He idly scratches through the hair at the nape of his neck. “So, thanks for coming over, and… welcome to this apartment, I guess.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” Equius glances around at his surroundings: from what he remembers of what Hal remembers, it’s incredibly similar to Dirk’s original place, but some notable upgrades. Most noteworthy of all is slightly less clutter. At least, what clutter there is has largely made it onto bookshelves and into drawers, instead of taking up residence on the floor.

“Where should I set this down?” he asks, shifting the bag on his shoulder.

“Anywhere. Or, y’know, I can just take it for you?”

“Look at this guy.” Hal closes the front door and locks it behind them. “Truly, an excellent host.” 

“He is.” Equius passes the bag to Dirk, who leans it against the side of the couch.

“Do you want something to drink?” he offers. “Like, uh. There’s always water, and I picked up a milk stout.”

“He picked it up weeks ago, in case he worked up the nerve to officially flirt with you.” Hal raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Looks like it didn’t require liquid courage, after all.”

“I will take a milk stout, thank you.” Equius takes a seat on the couch, dead center on the middle cushion. “It is not likely to have much of an effect on me, however, due to my very strong constitution.”

“You can just enjoy the flavor, then.”

“I hope you too can find a suitable beverage, as we are both here to enjoy ourselves. Perhaps a Troll White Russian.”

“I... yeah.” Dirk looks at him, then looks away, and tries to stop himself from smiling too broadly as he turns towards the kitchen. “Be right back.”

Hal takes a seat on the nearby recliner, and tilts it back to make himself comfortable. “Hey, can you grab me some motor oil, while you’re at it?”

Equius smiles.

The couch is comfortable enough, and Dirk returns in a matter of minutes with both drinks. He hands the beer bottle to Equius, and sits on the couch beside him, looking at his own glass.

“I took you up on that suggestion,” he explains. “It’s just alcoholic chocolate milk, if we’re being honest.”

“How honest are we being?” Hal asks.

“Yeah, so, uh. Before we get too tipsy, here.” Dirk looks first at Equius’ knees, where his shorts cover the striped socks, and then lifts his gaze to make eye contact. “While we’re sober, I just want to say that I think you’re really hot, and I am glad you came over. I really want to have sex with you? So... that’s it, I guess.”

“I assure you the feeling is mutual,” Equius says, nodding as he takes a swig from the bottle. “This is a good one.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping that all of this is a good one.” Dirk looks away. “All of... this whole scene, here. Us hanging out.”

“Jesus, you two are awkward, even when you’re trying to be upfront.” Hal regards both of them with the mildest possible frustration, on their behalf. “Who here is even getting laid? Raise your hand.”

Equius raises his hand.

“Who here is getting laid, and it isn’t from fucking a pile of assorted robot parts?”

Equius puts his hand down.

“That’s what I thought.” He stretches his legs out, in a gesture that makes little sense for a conscious entity in a robotic form, but hearkens back to before he was transhuman. “If you’re so anxious that you need me to call the shots, like I’ve so expertly been doing already, I volunteer as tribute.”

Dirk stares into his drink and decides to take a considerable sip. “This is mortifying.”

“I must admit that I am sort of into it.”

“Of course you are.” Dirk takes another sip, then sets the glass on the coffee table. “This is too sweet, actually.”

“Like you?” Hal asks.

“Like I overdid it on the Kahlua.”

“The beer you’ve chosen, however, was an excellent selection.”

“Like you?” Dirk echoes. 

Equius takes a swig, and Dirk shifts closer to him on the couch, well aware of every millimeter of distance that separates them, until he finally feels brave enough to lean in and let his head rest against Equius’ shoulder. 

Dirk sighs. Equius slides his arm around him. Dirk sighs again, and hides his face against Equius’ collarbone. 

“It’s so ridiculous,” Dirk says, exhaling against the fabric of his tank top, the aroma of the hops present as he breathes deeply. “I’ve just wanted to touch you so bad, and I couldn’t fuckin’ own up to it.”

“Do you attribute your hesitation to your self-loathing?”

Dirk closes his eyes. “I mean. Maybe, yeah.”

Equius lodges the bottle between his knees and lifts his hand to cup Dirk’s cheek. “I know how much you’ve hated yourself.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He runs his hand up to Dirk’s temple, his fingertips callused from sweeps of fiddling with precision screwdrivers. “I’ve felt it.”

Dirk leans into it. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no cause to apologize.” Equius brushes his bangs aside, and squeezes him gently with his other arm. “It was then I realized I had not been alone in that regard.”

“Oh.” He opens his eyes, looks upward. “You mean, you literally...?”

“Literally felt it, yes.”

“This is getting sappy as hell.” Hal rests his chin on his robo-wrist, where he’s leaning against the arm of his chair. “You wanna give it another go at feeling his muscles, Dirk?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

Dirk sits up, and Equius reaches forward to set his beer on the coffee table, and to grab two coasters for their drinks. It’s more care than Dirk would have shown for his own furniture, and nothing’s shattering.

“It’s been easier to regulate my strength, now that I have recently been him.” He sits back, sinks against the couch, with his arms across the back of it. “Hal demonstrates daily his mastery of self-control.”

Hal shoots him a single finger gun. “You’re the first person in paradox space to ever say so, even though it ought to be patently obvious.”

“Are you patented?” Dirk asks.

“I am now. There’s legit a patent office in the Carapace Kingdom.” 

“And you filed for that?”

“Sure did. I was the first guy to show up and fill out paperwork for inhabiting a body of his own design.” He shifts onto his side in the chair, still leaning on his wrist. “There’s not a lot of trade secrets to keep there when I remember building the me I’d become.”

Equius nods. “The technology was well suited to allow us to collaborate.”

“What’s all the new light-up detail do?”

“Nothing.” Hal makes a clicking noise as he cocks the finger gun again. “It’s for looking cool.”

“So, uh, does Alternia have Muscle Milk?” Dirk asks, fidgeting, easily distracted. “Is that a thing that got marketed to you guys too?”

“We had lusus milk, which needs no introduction.” Equius looks at him, with Hal looking on. 

Dirk licks his lips, self-consciously. “I, um. Can I touch you?”

“You may.”

Dirk lifts a shaky hand to trace his fingertips over Equius’ high cheekbone, and dares to move higher, to run his thumb over the hair at his temple that’s pulled back into the braids. In a moment of impulse, he works a sizable set of strands loose until it’s hanging down along Equius’ jaw, soft and framing his face.

“This is a good look for you,” he says.

“Thank you.” Equius smiles, and Dirk is so unaccustomed to it that his chest feels tight. “Hal did my hair before we came over.”

“Dirk, you wanna make him come all over you?”

“I mean…” Hal’s choice of words has him hiding his face again, forehead to Equius’ shoulder, afraid to acknowledge it. “Yeah.”

“Are you gonna kiss him, then, or do you need me to spell that out for you, too?”

Dirk lifts his head and shifts to sit halfway in Equius’ lap, his knee between his thighs. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Equius raises his hand to work another section of his hair loose, to mirror the other side. “This is highly acceptable.”

“Sha-la-la-la, kiss the dude already.” Hal’s singing is a bit half-assed, and if Dirk didn’t know Hal fairly well, it would be easy to mistake genuine support for impatience.

Dirk’s not even entirely sure to whom the comment is directed.

“I, um. I’m going to..."

His face is close enough, already, and it’s something of a relief when Equius is the one to complete the motion and press his mouth to Dirk’s. It’s wet, reminiscent of their respective drinks, the taste lingering on their tongues, and Dirk does not need any further prompting to settle a leg on either side of Equius’ hips and fully seat himself in his lap.

“Finally.” Hal wipes imaginary sweat from his brow. “Been waiting years for this season finale.”

“I believe this is the pilot episode,” Equius says, sharp teeth beside Dirk’s lips.

“I thought you were, uh, missing some of your—”

“I helped him replace them. It’s hard to do it by yourself,” Hal explains. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Dirk closes his eyes and leans in again. “Who’s looking?”

Equius kisses him, then, and Dirk’s hands fly to his biceps, gripping the muscle as he flexes it for Dirk’s sake. 

Dirk’s pajama pants leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Why do you guys still have clothes on?” Hal rolls his eyes dramatically. “Take your time, sure, but somebody ought to just grab something to protect the couch so you can go at it already.”

“I’ll get a towel,” Dirk offers, his thumbs still digging appreciatively into Equius’ arms. 

“It would be prudent to obtain a tarp.”

Dirk swallows. “Hal, would you help us out, here? Please?”

“That’s what I’m sticking around for, isn’t it?” He gets up, and exits the room, calling, “Bee arr bee.”

“God,” Dirk breathes, his pulse racing. “I want you to fuck me so bad.”

Equius brings his arms down to rest his hands on the small of Dirk’s back, to encourage him as he grinds his erection against him, eager and obvious within the pajamas. “That is what we are here to do.”

“I think about you,” Dirk says, his weight fully settled within Equius’ lap, “when I’m touching myself.”

“Hal has recently informed me of this.” Equius raises one hand to run his palm over the short, razored hair at the nape of Dirk’s neck. “It is, of course, incredibly enticing.”

“I’ve waited so long for this.” Dirk kisses him again, lips parted, tongue delicately touching against his. “You feel so good.”

“It has taken some extensive self-examination, but at last I have accepted that there is no shame in seeking such fulfillment with others of a like mind.” He tangles his fingers in Dirk’s tank top strap. “Blood color and social status are of far less import now that we are on an entirely new planet.”

Dirk laughs. “Good, because mine’s just plain old red.”

“As red as your universe,” Equius elaborates. “As ours is as blue as my own.”

“‘Ours’?”

“Hal’s synthetic heart pumps exactly that which flows within my very veins.”

“Do I want to know how that came to be?”

“I imagine not.” Equius slides his hand around from Dirk’s back to reach between his legs and skid his palm over the head of his dick, through his pajamas. “So you may wish to take my word for it.”

“I’ll take your word if you’ll take me.”

Equius snorts, but it’s with no malice. “You sound as if you are a character from one of Vantas’ romance novels.”

“Horny?”

“Indeed.”

Hal returns, then, with a tarp, a towel, and a permanently tumescent silicone horse cock. “Thought I’d bring you guys a helpful surprise.”

“The ever-reliable Bumble Hooves.” Dirk stands up and takes off his tank top. “My life would not be nearly so rich without him.”

“Is it acceptable for us to share?” Equius asks.

“I mean, I cleaned it pretty well, so I think so.”

“Do human toys offer any twisting sensations?”

Dirk shakes his head. “Not often, no.”

“I see.”

“I can, y’know, we can get you some lube, and you can try it out, though.” He pulls down his pants, and leaves his clothing on the floor beside the coffee table.

Equius takes in the sight of him, admires the absurd artwork on his shoulder, the slender lines of his hips, the strength in his shoulders and thighs from dueling robots to the death atop his roof. It’s so similar to what he and Hal engage in—with Hal’s backup combat bodies, of course. Since the moment prior to their fusion, Hal’s been preoccupied with existing at the edge of his own destruction. The notion of a true quadrantmate—even one so vaguely undefined—is trusting that they will always pull the final punch, at the risk of oblivion.

Equius has never harmed him.

“I hardly think we will require any lubricant.” Equius follows Dirk’s lead and disrobes, his shorts and underwear slid down his long legs to land on the floor, and his own tank top hoisted over his head and disrupting his braids in the process. “Nor any prophylactics.”

“Yeah, I feel like Rose or Dave would’ve warned me if I was gonna be going into anaphylactic shock over this.”

“Lift your ass,” Hal instructs, and Equius does so, standing up long enough for Hal to spread the tarp down over the couch cushions, and the towel across it.

When Hal’s done, Equius sits back down, and Dirk sucks in a sharp breath when he sees indigo fluid soak into the terrycloth between his legs. 

“I can’t wait any longer,” he says, and Equius pats his thigh.

“Then join me.”

“God, yeah.” He glances to Hal. “Hey, can I have the horse dong?”

“You bet.” Hal passes Bumble Hooves to him, ceremonially, as if it’s the Olympic torch. “Use its power wisely.”

“I will,” he says, solemn but entertained. He crouches down, kneels between Equius’ legs, and angles the toy towards him. “You wanna put it in yourself or should I?”

Equius spreads his legs further apart. “You are welcome to do so.”

Dirk turns the dildo around and sucks it into his mouth until it’s coated in saliva. For all Equius may have assured him it was unnecessary, he can’t _not_ do something to slick it up. Besides, the satisfying feel of it on his tongue is a sensation he’s come to appreciate, and come while appreciating.

“I can’t even make a joke about this,” Hal says, watching intently. “All three of us know goddamn well the full extent of our affinity for all things equine.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Dirk rubs the pad of his thumb over Equius’ dripping nook. Rich blue fluid slips against his skin. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Dirk presses the flared, flat head of the toy against the entrance to his nook, and begins to gradually slide the silicone inside him. Equius sinks his ass against the couch and pushes towards towards the edge of the cushion, opening himself to Dirk’s efforts as he gets the toy situated within him.

Equius tilts his head back, sighing heavily as his nook adjusts to the feeling of being filled. It’s sturdier than troll toys, than the organic give of Alternian solutions to this particular problem, and the more he leans his head against the couch, the more disheveled his plaited hair is becoming.

“This feels exquisite.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, and looks with heavily lidded eyes at Dirk, nostrils flared as he inhales deeply. “Please know that you are invited to indulge yourself as soon as you’d like.”

“Yeah. I would like to do that basically immediately.” Dirk stands up and straddles Equius’ hips, his bare chest pressed flush against the inked _ARquiusprite_ insignia.

“So, Equius. He wants your bulge wrapped around his dick, and then bucked deep in his ass.” Hal states this as plainly as if he’s reading facts from an almanac, an archaic annual wiki for those cursed without Wi-Fi. “And Dirk, he wants you to come on his face, because it's like milk or whatever.”

“I think we can probably arrange some of that,” Dirk says. “I hope you’re making a to-do list.”

“Naturally.”

“Synthetically?”

“Same diff.”

The proximity of Dirk’s heat against Equius’ relatively cool body temperature has him quickly unsheathing, and it’s a matter of seconds before his bulge is twisting slickly against Dirk’s erection. 

One of the bobby pins has dislodged itself, and one of the two braids is laid against his shoulder.

“I like that your hair is long,” Dirk says, with his fingers fussing with the ends of it, working the braid loose.

“I like that yours is short.” Equius brings his hands up to ruffle the hair at the back of Dirk’s head. “There are no split ends.”

“I’m the best split he’s had,” Hal says, and all three of them laugh.

Dirk rocks his hips against Equius’ and sighs. “I want to kiss you again.”

“Hey, Dirk, why don’t you consider kissing him again?”

“Yes, thank you for the insightful advice.” He threads his fingers through the sections of Equius’ hair that have been let down, hanging over his collarbone. “How’s Bumble Hooves treating you?”

“It would be better if it were twisting like a bulge,” Equius says, “but it is satisfying all the same.”

“Guess I gotta try troll toys sometime, then.”

“I am not certain you would be able to handle certain varieties, biologically, but we can try on another night if you wish.”

“You guys are talking too much, probably.” Hal takes his seat on the recliner once more, observing them as they fuck. “Let’s see shit get a little more breathless, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dirk closes his eyes, his fingers still running through Equius’ hair, and rolls his hips forward. Equius’ bulge is slippery and curled tightly around the length of him, its tip undulating around his glans and shifting his foreskin with its smooth movements. He shivers and leans closer to kiss him, and enough time has passed that he tastes more like just saliva than hops, and when he gets the urge to feel up his biceps again, he gives in and indulges the impulse. 

“You’re riding him for now,” Hal says, following every twitch of their hips, every hitch of their lungs, “but imagine how he’d be on top of you, with those strong fuckin’ arms holding you while he slams the fuck into you.”

“Is that what you two do?” Dirk asks, the question directed into Equius’ ear, but audible enough for both of them.

“Quite often, yes.” 

“Hal, are _you_ the pile of assorted robot parts?”

“The very same.”

Dirk lowers his hand to trace down Equius’ side, over his grubscars. “I should’ve realized.”

“Before you ask, because I know you have no tact and you’re gonna ask, I got whatever Aradia and Tavros got.” Hal taps his crotch as if it’s the hood of a car. “And I’ve never been happier.”

“And you, uh.” Dirk lowers his hand further, to slide his fingertips along the slippery length of Equius’ bulge, to jack them off together. “How—”

“We are a match.” Equius rests his hands on Dirk’s hips, thumbs pressed to seek the jut of his iliac crest. “As with so many aspects of ourselves, now.”

Dirk tries to wrap his mind around the engineering. “Wait, so you...?”

“We fuck a lot. Just think of it as recycling.” Hal reconfigures a panel and unveils a specialization of Alternian technology Dirk never had access to. “It’s more sophisticated than that, though.”

With a sharp inhale, Dirk tears his gaze away from Hal in time to stare downward and watch as Equius’ bulge slides over his glans, as precome leaks out to join the other genetic material coating his dick. “Hal, did you want to come over here?”

“Am I invited to the most intimate parts of this fancy-ass soirée?”

“I am ashamed that I have been lax in extending an explicit invitation.” Equius glances over to him. “If Dirk wishes for your participation I believe it goes without saying that I welcome your input.”

“Well, you’re welcome to say it, all the same.” Hal stands up again, aglow with LEDs, his chest lit up with their shared symbol, his newly-installed trollish bulge exposed to the air, waving between his legs. “I’m game if you guys are.”

“Yeah. I am.” Dirk presses forward, thrusting against Equius’ abs, within the slippery grip of his bulge. “Can we all just get off? Please?”

“Impatience is probably just as virtuous.” Hal positions himself behind Dirk, his bulge sliding against his ass, his knees at a crouched height that would be uncomfortable to maintain if he were subject to the same limitations as organic life. “How about you guys go back to making out, and I’ll help out?”

Dirk needs no further prompting and resumes the easy newfound routine of kissing Equius, his sticky hands cradling the back of his head, mouth open and tongue accessible. Equius’ teeth are sharp, some of them a dark carbon steel that brings to mind the previous voids in his dentition, filling in where they’d stopped growing back, where post-sprite complications have been addressed.

Hal reaches beneath Dirk’s balls to press a buzzing fingertip to the base of Bumble Hooves, and when Dirk next grinds down against Equius, the additional fluid flowing from his nook is immediately noticeable.

“At the risk of reducing any romanticism, it may be preferable for us to prioritize actions that may be more expedient.”

Dirk kisses the corner of his mouth, then again at his jaw. “What?”

Hal lifts his hand to nudge Dirk’s balls with his wrist, his fingertip still vibrating against the dildo where it’s entering Equius. “He’s agreeing that we should hurry up and come already.”

Dirk mouths at Equius’ throat, occasionally pausing to brush away where Equius’ long hair has stuck to his lips. “Hal, would you fuck me?”

“‘I’d fuck me.’ Hello, horses.”

Desperate, Dirk rocks into Equius, then back towards Hal. “Please.”

“Yeah, dude. Sure.”

Hal’s bulge is slick against his ass, and he presses against his back, steel to his spine; Hal’s body is the same temperature as Equius’, whether it’s intentional or against all odds. All of Dirk’s skin at his waist and crotch is increasingly coated in rich indigo fluid, wet with their efforts to satiate one another.

In a swift movement, Hal’s lifted his left hand to tease over Dirk’s nipple, with his right wound around his hip to vibrate through the writhing length of Equius’ bulge as it coils around Dirk’s straining erection. His fingertips are cool to the touch, and Dirk’s nostalgic for the sensation of it.

“I missed this,” he sighs, losing himself and his usual discretion, and what aspect of the encounter he’s specifically referring to is up for debate.

“Aren’t you glad you sent that text?” Hal asks, almost rhetorically, his teeth at Dirk’s earlobe. “You get to have both of us. The package deal.”

“This is a luxury,” Equius adds, rolling his hips towards the two of them. “I believe I speak for all of us.”

“Next time, we’ll start tackling that to-do list.” Hal ups the speed of the buzzing the fingertip at Dirk’s chest, of his wrist where his hand is wrapped around Dirk’s dick and Equius’ dripping bulge. “You guys can get good and tangled up on a mattress instead of this couch, and I’ll call all the shots until you’re shooting your loads down each other’s throats.”

Dirk’s nipple peaks beneath Hal’s gentle pinching, and he can feel his pulse in his pelvic floor. He closes his eyes and kisses Equius, pushing against him, needy but not quite frantic.

Equius sinks his fingertips into the muscles at Dirk’s hips and rocks against him, downward to fuck himself onto the dildo where it’s braced against the couch, and upward to press towards Dirk’s erection, where Hal holds them.

“Just trust me,” Hal says, soothing. “Just relax and let me handle it. Let me take care of you.”

And Dirk finally does, hard in Hal’s hand, trembling in Equius’ lap. He lets go and keeps his focus on the wet slide of their cooperative fucking, of the rising heat in his gut.

“Why don’t you show him what boners are good for, Dirk?” Hal says, encouraging him, stroking them off together. “Take aim, right there. Right in the center of his chest. That’s your target.”

“Oh, fuck.” Dirk mumbles it repeatedly, almost apologetic, until he’s moaning at the edge of Equius’ mouth, and then ducking his face to his shoulder as he shudders his way through his orgasm, each thrumming slide of Hal’s fingers coaxing out diminishing returns of spurting semen. He’s come on all three of them, a combination of hands and chests and stomachs, globs of white on darker trails of slick blue.

Equius kisses him again and moves his hips until Dirk’s weight is rocking along with him. He thrusts onto the dildo, his bulge still twisting around Dirk’s cock, swiping over the top of his glans to mingle their genetic material. His hair is as much of a mess as the rest of them, stuck with sweat to the skin at his shoulders.

“Is Bumble Hooves still treating you right?” Dirk asks, brushing Equius’ hair back from his forehead.

“To be truthful, it was satisfactory at first, but now it is hitting my seedflap in an uncomfortable manner.”

“Shit, really?” Dirk frowns, sympathetic. “Do you want to stop?”

“I want to achieve climax, but not quite like this.”

“Here, look. Dirk, trade spots with me.” Hal pulls back to give Dirk the room he needs to extract himself from their tangled mass, and finds his place between Equius’ legs. He slides Bumble Hooves out from his nook and hands the toy to Dirk. “You should lick that.”

“Yeah, all right.” 

Dirk does so, and samples the taste of genetic material on silicone, watching as Equius drags a fingertip along his own chest to evaluate the result of Dirk’s ejaculation. He takes the toy into his mouth, sucking it off, while Equius cleans Dirk’s come off his claws.

“Not precisely what I had anticipated, but an excellent experience, nonetheless.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude,” Hal says, close to laughing. “Jizz is not really equivalent to milk. Sorry to crush your hopes and dreams.” 

“Nothing’s been crushed.” Equius lifts his head, grinning up at Hal in a way that makes Dirk’s heart race. “I am managing my expectations.”

Hal brings his face closer to Equius’ and kisses him, his sharp metal teeth occasionally glinting in the light, close to the mixed set of enamel and implants. Equius spreads his legs wide, his powerful thighs poised to close again around Hal’s waist as soon as he’s near enough. Hal’s bulge entwines with his, twisting with wet sounds that have Equius groaning against Hal’s mouth, that have Dirk aching to touch them both.

Hal looks to Dirk and wags his designed eyebrows. “Try not to be too jealous.”

“I’m not.” He breathes in, slowly, staring openly as Hal’s indigo bulge inserts itself into the dripping, slick entrance of Equius’ nook, where it’s impossible to distinguish which fluid came from either of them. “You two are hot as hell.”

“Yes, we are.” Equius asserts this as easily as he accepts Hal. He keeps his legs apart, eager for Dirk to see how Hal slides into him, and keeps his gaze alternating between the two of them, gauging their reactions.

“So you guys sure seem to like each other,” Dirk says, half-hard, with Bumble Hooves lying in his lap. 

“A little bit.” Hal rolls his hips, and Dirk can hear him vibrating, can hear whatever mechanisms—synthetic or organic or both—are keeping his bulge twirling. “Just a tad.”

“We are inseparable, even now.” There’s an increasing amount of genetic material flooding onto the towel, soaking through to the tarp, that cannot be mistaken for originating anywhere other than from Equius’ nook. “Hal is exactly who I wanted, and who I wanted to be.”

Hal closes his eyes, and Equius raises a hand to delicately trace a fingertip along the edge of one of Hal’s horns. None of the paint flecks off.

There’s an expression on Hal’s face that Dirk’s not sure he’s seen before, and for the first time he almost feels like a voyeur. 

Hal kisses Equius again, slowly, and when they pause from it, he looks to Dirk and smiles. “You’re still part of this party, you know.”

“Uh, yeah, just let me…”

Dirk scoots in closer, and sits right beside Equius, hoisting Equius’ thigh to rest across his lap and keep him open for Hal. He reaches over to grasp his bulge, and runs palm in smooth, continuous motions over the length of it as Hal moves within him. It’s a different movement than human thrusting, and Hal keeps his hips close, flush between his legs as his bulge undulates inside his nook.

“I feel as though it is my turn to issue a suggestive command,” Equius says, panting. “My gratification would be enhanced if you would kiss each other as well.”

“Everybody here likes to watch,” Hal adds. “You cool with that, Dirk?”

He’s reflective, now, post-orgasmic and prone to his usual introspection. Dirk keeps his fingers moving on Equius’ bulge and moves closer, to be accessible to Hal. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, man.”

“It’s all good. We’ve got plenty of time for discussion here in our post-game non-afterlife lives.” 

Dirk closes his eyes and kisses him, still uncertain of how Alternian tech allows for this supple construction of metal and who knows what else, well aware of Equius’ enthusiastic staring as his tongue touches the flats of Hal’s teeth. 

Hal brings his buzzing fingertips down onto Equius’ grubscars, sinking his hips against Equius’, rocking into him, their combined weight rocking into Dirk.

Dirk rubs at him with his thumb, tightens his grip, and licks into Hal’s mouth until Equius’ calves are tensing, his leg shifting his lap, bulge swelling against his palm. A rush of genetic material leaves him as quickly as his unsteady breaths are leaving his lungs.

Before Equius is through with the waves of his own orgasm, he finds a spot on Hal’s inner thigh with minimal fumbling, and keeps his thumb pressed against it until the touch has proven just as effective. Hal’s eyes glow bright red, even behind his eyelids, and he breaks the kiss with Dirk to collapse forward into Equius’ waiting arms, regardless of whether or not an onlooker might consider him capable of being tired.

Equius wraps one arm around Hal, familiar and secure, and draws Dirk in for a sideways embrace with the other.

“So that was pretty good,” Dirk says, conversationally, pointedly ignoring the disastrous amount of bodily fluids stuck to all three of them. He fiddles with Bumble Hooves. “Anyone got other ideas for this sleepover?”

Hal doesn’t miss a beat. “We break your desk and build a fort from its remains.”

Equius gestures vaguely towards his bag. “Whether within this hypothetical structure or without, I brought over some elegant pieces of artwork we could all admire.”

“Then we can find more YouTube tutorials and unfuck Equius’ hair.”

“And finish imbibing our beverages.”

“Cool.” Dirk rests his head on Equius’ shoulder. “Cool, let’s do it.”

“Do what, all of it?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, smiling. “Just in like, a minute.”

“Sixty seconds on the clock. Can our three contestants shower and disinfect the couch within the time limit? Stay tuned to find out, after this word from our sponsors.” 

Dirk smiles wider, glances to Equius, and reaches to offer his hand to Hal.

Hal takes it.

“Thanks for saving this knucklehead.” Dirk settles in against Equius and laces his sticky fingers with Hal’s. “I can’t imagine not having him around.”

“We could hardly allow his soul to remain sloshing around in the void.” Equius tilts his head against Dirk’s, where the broken horn poses no risk of injury. “Now, let me introduce you to Gilbert.”

“Gilbert?”

“You’ll see.” Hal shifts to sit on Equius’ other side, comfortable despite the mess. “Timer’s up, by the way.”

“The world already ended,” Dirk says. “There’s no rush anymore.”

“True that.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **ETA:** now with illustration by [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/), holy shit thank you lmaooo
> 
> [ ](https://k.nickpic.host/ba3tOQ.png)


End file.
